


Tea

by greedy_dancer



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Discord: Voiceteam 2020, Ficlet, M/M, Podfic & Podficced Works, Podfic Available
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:00:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28490553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greedy_dancer/pseuds/greedy_dancer
Summary: Jaskier accepted the cup of tea and took a cautious sip. It had been years, decades really, since he had had anything to fear from Yennefer, but what could he say? It had become a reflex way before they settled into their truce.His eyes snapped up to her as soon as the taste registered on his tongue.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 6
Kudos: 104
Collections: Voiceteam Mystery Box 2020





	Tea

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Seed 1](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/736344) by somnolentblue. 



> This ficlet was created using a [PodfIDIC Seed](https://podfidic.dreamwidth.org/2015/01/01/seed1.html) as its starting point/framework. Credit for the seed goes to Somnolentblue.
> 
> This ficlet was written during the Voiceteam:Mystery Box challenge, specifically in order to be recorded as podfic, so check out the related works!

Jaskier accepted the cup of tea and took a cautious sip. It had been years, decades really, since he had had anything to fear from Yennefer, but what could he say? It had become a reflex way before they settled into their truce.

His eyes snapped up to her as soon as the taste registered on his tongue.

Could it be?

"That's an unusual choice," he said inanely.

"Yes. It looked like it might be time," Yennefer said, bluntly, not unkindly.

They both looked over at the fireplace. Jaskier’s vision had dimmed, but he could still see the outline of Geralt’s body, slumped in his chair in front of the hearth, the glint of his knives on his lap, the dangling hand that must have dropped his sharpening stone when he fell asleep.

Jaskier let himself look his fill. Oh, he didn’t usually  _ hide _ it – how could he? After all this time, his heart was still written on his sleeve, for such was the curse of true artists. He carefully disguised the true depth of his feelings, however – a little exaggeration here, a dash of hyperbole there, a pinch of drama. Nobody took old men seriously anyway, but still. He needed to make sure Geralt kept rolling his eyes and never started pitying him, or tried to leave Jaskier behind out of some noble and misguided sense of guilt. Jaskier could bear the indignities of age, but not this. 

He felt warmth over his hand – the damn tremor in his hand was back, and it was sending liquid sloshing over the rim of the over-full cup.

"Careful,” Yennefer scolded. “There aren’t that many trolls around anymore, I don’t know how many times I can make this.”

Careful indeed. Jaskier steadied the cup carefully, using both hands. He breathed deep, bracing himself, and took long drink.

He didn’t know what to expect – his research had turned up no first-hand accounts of the effects, and he knew enough that anything else was just exaggerated gossip and cautionary tales against using magic.

One thing he was sure of was that the effects would not take hold for days, perhaps weeks, even. Still, as he drank, he thought he felt warmth spread through him.

The throbbing in his knee seemed to dull, and was he really seeing details he couldn’t, a minute ago? Geralt’s face seemed more beautiful than ever before. Even his heart seemed to beat more strongly.

And sharper, clearer than anything, Jaskier felt  _ hope _ spreading through his chest.

There would be more time. More time to travel with Geralt, more time to love him. More time to find the perfect moment, the right words and make him see… And this time Jaskier would be braver. He would tell Geralt. He would.

Jaskier wiped his eyes, chuckling at himself. Yennefer was looking at him, annoyance clear on her face.

"It tastes a bit like cornflower,” he said, because she certainly would not stand for effusive thanks, and no words would adequately express his gratitude anyway. A song, perhaps. It would be tricky -- but he had time for this too, now. “Hey, don’t they call it bachelor’s button?’"

"Yes,” Yennefer said. She looked between him and Geralt, shaking her head. “I fucking hate irony, don’t you?”

Jaskier couldn’t help it - he laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

*

The end!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Tea](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28491339) by [semperfiona_podfic (semperfiona)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/semperfiona/pseuds/semperfiona_podfic)
  * [[Podfic of] Tea](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28517793) by [Flowerparrish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flowerparrish/pseuds/Flowerparrish)




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